A/N: That moment when you don't know what direction the story is going… I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Freshly Baked Apple Pie

"Whose crazy decision was it," Tony wagged his finger accusingly at Steve, "to put him in S.H.I.E.L.D?"

The three were confined in a brightly lit room in another, unidentified building Steve has yet to discover. The walls looked homely thanks to the peach paint, too cozy to be a room meant for locking Agent Coulson, Tony, and Steve there, but there was a metal door as the exit, juxtaposing the two themes.

Agent Coulson, Steve learned, had to babysit Tony and him temporarily because regarding the incident with Frost sparked Principal Fury's interest, and their safety was his top priority, which is why when Tony refused to step into this room, Phil had to manhandle him here, leading him to have a short temper. The ruffled teen continued acting out his own soliloquy, annoying Steve's eardrums. Despite that, though, he collapsed on an elongated settee, feeling the massive weight of today dissolving like how salt would disappear in a cup of water. However, all good things must come to an end when Agent Coulson stiffened. While Tony was in the middle of blaming the academy's faulty system, especially his father's irresponsible way of running things, Phil quickly pulled out his gun and pointed at the door. Jarvis signaled Tony a powerful being is approaching the premises. They were high-strung and tensions rose as they all heard the imminent pounding on the door. Tony attached one of his gloves into his right hand, readying the repulsor and aiming it at the door, too.

"On the count of three," Tony whispered, "We'll attack."

Whatever was outside made a dent on the door.

"One…"

There were three protruding bumps on the metal door now. Couldn't Jarvis post a video of this being?

"Two…"

The door was flung out of the way.

Tony yelled, "Three!"

Before they could shoot, someone flew from the other side and flung the door aside swiftly, then jumped onto Agent Coulson, squeezing the daylights out of him by the human process of hugging.

"Son of Coul! You have returned from your battle!" Thor cried happily.

Steve could only pity the choking agent as he started to turn into a ghastly shade of blue, but Tony, on the other hand dropped his glove and laughed, relishing this rare moment of history. Phil fruitlessly patted the god's shoulder, soliciting Thor to restrain his joyous feelings. By now, Tony fell to the ground, rolling on the floor laughing as if there was no end to tomorrow. However, due to Steve's urging, he playfully pushed Thor away to give the man some air, which he did comply. Phil was on his knees, breathing heavy, short gasps as if each one was his last. He massaged his neck and gave a terse nod. The god still had ebullient feelings inside him, so Steve was the next one to receive his bone-crushing embrace. He yelped as Thor's arms surrounded him, and just like Phil, he was wiggling like a flopping fish, wishing for oxygen.

Tony didn't have a chance to laugh at Steve because he sensed Phil's stabbing glare behind his back.

He tries to persuade Thor before he gets in any more trouble.

"Now big guy, we don't want to kill the good Midgardian, do we? How about letting him go?"

Thor pouted and dropped him. Tony clapped his hands, proud to see the god exercising repression. Apparently, they left him while he ran around the academy to look for the nurse and happened to hear where they were at. Tony now turned to Agent Coulson.

"Now that the almighty Thor is here, Agent, would you mind telling me why I can't do my job properly or why a runt is endangering himself in Howard's program?"

Of course Tony would like to know why Steve can't lose his memories.

Phil sighed. "Tony, I-"

"Because if I recall, this was part of the assignment, but now I hear this bullshit and-"

An intrusive voice, lower and more of like a bark, snipped off Tony's rant, "First of all, Stark, you have an infamous track record of deleting the memories of fifteen citizens on your permanent record. Second, you are not the best candidate to choose who should lose their memories."

Emerging from the shadows where the door used to be was a dark-skinned man wearing a long black coat with a S.H.I.E.L.D patch sewed onto his right sleeve and an eye-patch, making him look like a pirate out of an action movie. Even though he was the same as Tony, Steve understood that this man holds a superior role and was someone one shouldn't trifle with. He camouflaged with the darkness, but under the light, he was the most conspicuous. He looked at Steve with his good eye.

"Good afternoon Steve Rogers."

Deeming he is liable to talk and not wanting to be rude, he answered back, "Good afternoon to you, too, sir."

Tony, not one for respect and formalities, had cut to the chase. "Fury, what are you planning with him?"

Hard-faced, Principal Fury said, "He has potential."

"Potential?" Tony made a sour expression. "From what I remembered, if one doesn't use that potential to his full ability, he is the same as a citizen."

Thor backed to the side, including Agent Coulson.

"Tony, you don't understand." Understand what? That you guys are planning to use him as a lab rat?"

Principal Fury was tight-lipped.

"We aren't doing that."

Tony laughed, but this laugh was one of ridicule.

"If not, then what are you going to do with him? Train him to be an agent like Phil over there? I know you have something up that sleeve in there."

"You are just making false assumptions."

"This is why I never liked Howard employing you."

Steve raised his hand high in the air, slicing the crackling tension between the two with his dense innocence, and asked, "May I have permission to speak?"

Tony rolled his eyes, bemoaning the hapless fact he was actually associated with such a Boy Scout, and glared vehemently at Principal Fury who allowed the bright-eyed teen to talk, which ended their verbal brawl. He waited for Steve to speak.

Principal Fury, still slightly peeved because of Tony's invasive questions, locked his eyes onto baby blue, daring the owner of those startling azure eyes to ask anything, anything at all.

Undaunted, the other finally inquired with no trace of fear laced on his words, "May I ask, what does S.H.I.E.L.D stand for?"

If Principal Fury didn't expect this weird question, he was trained to not show it but just smiled ruefully and patted on Steve's shoulder condescendingly. Tony rolled his eyes again.

"Sorry, but that's classified."

Tony muttered, "Teacher's pet."

Agent Coulson, who previously stood at the sidelines along with Thor watching the prior onslaught, stepped out and gripped Steve's shoulder and guided him out of the room, due to Fury's implicative gaze, with Tony following behind. Before he lost sight of Fury from his peripheral vision, Thor was pushing Tony to move forward faster, and so, their day officially ended. Class has ended long ago; they were met with empty hallways. Walking on them was like arriving a ghost town, and the unrelenting clicking sound Tony purposefully made with his heels didn't improve the void.

Tony was the first one to speak.

"That wasn't the question you wanted to ask."

Steve did that familiar cocking his head to one side.

"So?"

"You broke the mood on purpose."

"I had to. It was suffocating back there."

"What was the real question, then?"

Steve had a thoughtful expression and took his time answering, "I was just curious about what you guys were talking about. Why did you keep referring me as a 'civilian' back there?"

Before Tony's biting words could reply, Agent Coulson went in the middle and began explaining, in an abridged version, the sophisticated system the academy had installed as its founding motive. Steve, too awestruck with the idea, attempted to paraphrase.

"So… Tony and Thor aren't the only ones with powers…"

"Yes."

"And in order to learn to adapt in a civilian setting for the pure purpose to not reveal their identities, I was chosen, along with others, for this 'project'…"

To spite Agent Coulson, Tony added, "To endanger yourself around potential super villains and superheroes. Therefore, this corrupted academy pays your family in indulgent amounts in case there are casualties."

Steve audibly whispered, "Casualties?"

Assuming Steve's appalled expression was one of concern, Agent Coulson reassured, "Do not fret, Mr. Rogers. We have Class A agents inhabiting the school, plus, we have good people like Thor here who would risk their lives to protect your well-being."

Tony coughed loudly, "Excuse me, Agent, but I just noticed that you haven't included me as the good people list."

"Tony, you are self-destructive and egotistical."

"Damn right I am, proud to be that, too, but wasn't it me who saved buddy over here?" He wrung his thumb towards Steve's startled look.

Agent Coulson nodded. "That's true. Quite shocked to see you involve yourself with him. I guess that is why Howard is rooming Mr. Rogers with you."

Steve and Tony halted instantaneously, screeching the soles of their feet on the pavement. Turning their heads simultaneously at the smirking agent, they cried out their outrage.

"What?"

The man in black with sunglasses full of swag chirped, "Your father was overjoyed to see his own son befriending another, so as a present, he will room Mr. Rogers with you."

"Bullshit." Tony spat. "Thor would have been a better choice. I'll even accept Banner! Besides, how the heck are we friends?"

Jarvis spoke through the speakers, which are intact to Tony's backpack.

"The literal definition of a friend, based on dictionary . com is a person who gives assistance- a supporter."

Tony rebutted, "But a friend is also a person who is on good terms with another, which is not what Steve and I-"

"You still can't call me Steve."

Tony gestured to Steve. "See? If we were friends, he wouldn't be such an arse."

Pretending his ears were plugged, Agent Coulson continued on.

"Boys, it is late, so I advise you, Mr. Rogers, to pack up right now, and when you are done, Tony would be glad to take you to his room where you are welcomed with a newly furnished bed. Isn't that right, Tony?"

Said Tony, for once, didn't want to talk. Thor, who was oddly quiet during this whole period, bid his friends ado for he has a certain Jane Foster he must woo at this untimely hour, and Agent Coulson, who had a sudden distress call, politely excused himself for not escorting Steve back to his dorm room and zipped away, running to wherever danger beckons him. Tony and Steve were alone and silent during the whole trip back to the destined dorm room.

After they had gone upstairs and knocked on the door where Bucky opened the door with a weary expression, Steve pulled out his small, brown knapsack stashed under his bed and stuffed it with his most prized possession, a petite photo of his dear mother, and of course, his clothes. Tony was leaning at the doorpost, studying the average dorm room and Steve's paltry bag slung on his shoulder. Bucky, obviously not saddened to have a room all to himself, gave a brusque wave and returned back to reading his comics as Steve gave the room one last look-over and closed the door.

Describing the flamboyancy Steve witnessed as they walked closer and closer to Tony's room was useless, but indeed, the main colors he saw were red and gold. A bit too much gold Steve would like to point out. Luckily, he got an improvised tour of this side of the school.

There was a touch screen beside Tony's sliding door, and while he was tapping away the combination and his password and letting his fingerprint checked, he further explained to Steve more about this unusual school.

"There are only three civilians, excluding a handful of agents, who knows about us."

"Really? Who are they?"

The door slid open and lights turned on when Tony clapped his hands.

"Technically, you are the only male who knows. My girlfriend, Pepper knows, and Thor's 'soul mate', as he would like to call it, Jane Foster, knows."

Just like Phil had predicted, a queen-sized mattress was laid out, its bed sheets probably made by some kind of exotic silk and dyed in red, white, and blue. Steve dumped out his belongings, which made Tony just scrunched his face.

"What's the matter? Too digital that you never seen a photograph before?"

"Why do you have so little? It hurts my eyes to see the difference."

Yes, Steve can see the trophies, the awards, medals, and the plaques ornamenting his walls, yet Steve was not envious. Maybe it was Tony's bored expression when he looked at his entire room, or the way he didn't babble on about his successful high school career, but Steve just criss-crossed his legs on his new bed, fished out a small book, and read.

"You are so gay to read at midnight." Tony stated.

Steve flipped to the next page, entranced by the prologue but answered back to Tony's retort.

"Why yes, I am very happy."

"Happy about what?"

Steve teased, "Being your friend."

The diction of the book was almost flawless, the words streaming like a river, capturing his attention, but then he heard a whirring sound, which distracted him. It was in a capsule of some sort, and inside there was a triangular shape suspended in air. Its energy source was nowhere in sight. Maybe whatever that was, it was energy itself. He shuffled to the capsule on Tony's side of the bed, and before Tony could yell, to stymie his advances, Steve touched it. The floating object combusted, burned into a fascinating crisp, and died out, leaving a harsh sizzle as a result. He was shocked and turned pale while Tony gritted his teeth and sucked in a large breath. He looked like he would chew him into bits.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Tony touched the scraps, and crumbled into ash. He mourned for the loss, but this is Tony Stark, you see, so later on, he'll shrug off the grudge and will make a better invention. If this was true, his grumbles said otherwise.

He dusted the ash into the bin while begrudgingly talking to himself in a high-pitched voice, possibly mocking his mother, "Make friends, they said. It'll be fun, they said."

After ten minutes, Steve returned to his book, guilty and scarlet.

Tony must have forgiven him for he spoke again after another ten minutes.

"What is happiness, Steven?"

Figuring he'll never have peace, Steve laid down his book and gazed at the guy opposite him, sprawled and staring at him, too. Unable to devise a profound analogy, he shrugged and dreamily said, "I guess happiness, to me, is freshly baked apple pie on a cold day."

Tony was fixated on a blowtorch, occasionally igniting it. How he got it, Steve does not know.

"Weird, I expected you to say something cheesy, like a kiss from a beautiful girl."

Steve laughed. "I'm simple, Mr. Stark, not shallow."

Tony pretended to be pained. "Ouch, I need some ice on that burn."

"Why don't you ask Jarvis?"

Since his name was mentioned, Jarvis activated his voice, "Am I needed, Mr. Stark?"

Tony stuffed the blowtorch into his backpack, undressed, and thought for awhile until he slipped in comfortable clothes and replied, "Jarvis, what is the temperature?"

"I believe it is sixty-two degrees, Mr. Stark."

He grinned, "Perfect."

Steve, curious, asked, "What are you planning to do?"

Slipping into his slippers, Tony demanded Steve to change and bring a decent jacket while hiding in his closet asking Jarvis for his Armani.

"I'm going to have a taste of happiness. Would you like to eat some freshly baked apple pie with me tonight?"

"But it's midnight!"

"Then we will have a magnificent tea party while gobbling our perfect, freshly baked midnight snack."

Steve shook his head, amused by Tony's silly proposition.

"You are too pampered."

Nevertheless, he easily unfolded his jacket, arranged his collar, zipped the zipper up, pocketed his hands, went outside, giggled because a chilly blast of air went through his face, and sat with Tony Stark, having a good dose of happiness.